


(No) Rest for the Wicked

by Anonymous



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types, Mortal Kombat 11 - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, And sarcasm, Black Dragon - Freeform, Erronjin, Flirting, Healing, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Sex, Injury, Jin Really Hates The Black Dragon, Kano's Only Love Is Money, M/M, Why Aren't There More Stryker/Kabal fics?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27409345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Three Black Dragon members relax, recuperate and scheme in the company of the ones they love after a hard day's work.
Relationships: Erron Black/Kung Jin, Kabal/Kurtis Stryker, Kano/Money
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13
Collections: Anonymous





	(No) Rest for the Wicked

“You could get into trouble. Y’know that, right?”

Kabal swallowed a chuckle as Kurtis Stryker froze for a moment, his hand clasped tightly around the handle of the fridge door. It only lasted for a few seconds before Stryker heaved a low sigh and pulled out two chilled bottles of beer. Then, he made his way towards the couch, where his dark-haired visitor lay sprawled out and smirking like a pampered Cheshire cat.

“ _You're_ already in enough trouble for bringing those damn _things_ with you,” Stryker grumbled, handing him a beer. He shot a glare at the offending pair of hookswords that were leaning against his coat stand. “I don’t know why you have to lug them to my apartment all the time.”

Kabal shrugged, although his eyes shone knowingly.

“Can I help it that I came straight from work? I barely had time to wipe them clean,” he replied.

“ _Kabal_ …”

He raised his beer in mock surrender, before adding in a tone that was slightly more serious: “I’d have to be the dumbest fucker alive if I didn’t have something to protect myself with. You’ve been good, Kurt, but if you decide to turn me in, then I’m not taking any chances.”

Stryker rolled his eyes, gently batting away Kabal’s legs so that he could take a seat – they rolled again as those same legs now stretched across his lap, almost knocking his beer out of his hands.

“At this point, that’s kinda the last thing I want to do,” he said. “For one thing, it’ll be a major headache trying to explain to my commander how I came to arrest a Black Dragon operative –”

“’Specially how ya came to be _sleeping_ with one.”

Kabal wanted to laugh out loud at the cop’s reddening features. Instead, he pressed his smiling mouth to the lip of his bottle.

“That, too,” Stryker muttered, peering down as if he were examining the leather that made up Kabal’s boots. Then, he raised his head, slowly running his half-lidded eyes up the boots, up the long legs, up the strong, solid body until they came to rest upon the other man’s face.

“And for another thing,” he continued, his voice husky, “I figure it’d be more fun _catching up_. Kano’s kept you busy for a couple of weeks, after all …”

If there was a drift to catch, then it was swiftly caught. Still, resting the bottle on the edge of his collarbone, Kabal pretended to look unimpressed.

“Catching up, eh? You could get into trouble for _that_ , too,” he declared. “You’d seriously let those NYPD goons nail your ass for that, Kurt?”

Stryker smiled. Before Kabal knew it, the cop’s hand – deliciously cool to the touch – slid down his leg, his thick fingers gliding over the tight material that covered his inner thigh. Kabal gasped as they pressed into the soft, warm flesh beneath, the thumb rubbing firm circles into it.

With a loud moan rising in his throat, the Black Dragon saw Stryker’s smile transforming into a smirk of his own.

“If it means nailing _your_ ass first, then I’ll risk it.”

* * *

“Does the emperor know you still do jobs for the Black Dragon?”

Erron Black did not reply straight away. He could barely hold back a hiss as the wet cloth rubbed against his wrist, wiping away the dried blood. Then, after smearing the wounded area with some sort of ointment, Kung Jin began to carefully wrap a bandage around his wrist – as he did so, the corners of his mouth pulled downwards in a pissed-off kind of fashion, as did his brows.

The sight made Erron sigh and shift uneasily on his bed.

“The Kahn knows I do contract work for other people in my free time,” he finally replied, quietly.

“But he doesn’t know that it includes the Black Dragon, right?”

Burning brown eyes glanced up to meet blue ones, and the mercenary knew that lying would be no use to him here.

“No, he doesn’t,” he admitted, before adding in what he hoped was a firm tone, “and he doesn’t _need_ to know, either.”

Jin’s brows practically furrowed into one line. It was nearly enough for Erron to want to pull his wrist back, but he dared not break Jin’s hold, foolishly fearing that the Shaolin monk might inflict a similar injury to his other wrist.

Pausing on the bandaging, Jin stared at Erron with a scowl.

“So what, you’re gonna let him know the hard way next time when some Black Dragon rival dumps your corpse on the palace door-step?” he barked. " _That_ could’ve happened today, Black – you’re lucky that you got away with only a wrist injury. The Elder Gods must have been feeling generous enough to spare you.”

Erron bit down hard on his tongue to stop a barrage of snarky retorts from being uttered. After a second or two, he replied softly, “At least I won’t be doing _any_ kinda job until I heal properly.”

“Good.” The single syllable was both harsh and gentle.

A brief silence then fell as Jin continued with the bandaging. A minute or so later, he was done; Erron lifted his wrist, examining the bandaged area from all angles. He looked at the monk and nodded his head in thanks.

Jin merely rolled his eyes.

“Next time you do a job for the Black Dragon and almost get yourself killed, ask Kano nicely to fucking clean up after you.”

Erron sighed again, his lips curling into a small smile. He reached out with his other hand, touching the top of Jin’s knee.

“It’s nice to know that you worry about me anyhow,” he murmured. “You’d have left me to bleed to death if you didn’t.”

The faint blush that burst upon Jin’s cheeks made Erron want to chuckle. Seeing the amusement flashing on the other man’s face caused the monk to rub the back of his head.

“Yeah, I worry,” he muttered. “I honestly don’t like the idea of you mixing it up with the likes of Kano’s crew, or you getting killed because of them. They’re bad news, Black. Don’t you get that?”

Erron squeezed his knee.

“This will be one of the last jobs I do for them,” he said.

“That didn’t answer my question, but God knows I’ll take it. That’s _if_ you mean it, of course.”

“I do. I won’t work with ‘em again – cross my heart and all that shit. Besides, Junior, I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowin’ that you’re worried about little ol’ me.”

Suddenly, Erron felt something grasp his waist, and – with a yelp – he found himself perched atop of Jin’s lap. Tightening his hold, the monk let a cheeky grin play on his lips.

“I wasn’t planning to let you sleep anyway, Black,” he retorted.

Placing his hands on Jin’s broad shoulders to steady himself, Erron cast a faux-withering look at him.

“Thought you didn’t like the Black Dragon,” he sarcastically remarked. “We’re _bad news_.”

Sinking his lips into the sultry warmth of Erron’s neck, his hands lifting the back of his denim shirt, Jin whispered in reply over the breathless moans:

“Nothing that a White Lotus can’t handle.”

* * *

“… seventy-eight … seventy-nine … aha, eighty _million_!”

Securing an elastic band around the thick, green stack of money notes, Kano brought it to his lips and gave it a kiss, a loud smacking sound echoing around his quarters.

Then, placing it next to the countless other stacks piled next to him on the bed, the Black Dragon leader switched off his bedside-lamp and wriggled underneath the covers.

“G’night, my precious dollarydoos,” he murmured lovingly in the dark, his cybernetic eye casting a red glow on the stacks. “And don’t worry, ‘cause Daddy Kano’s gonna get Uncle Kabal and Uncle Erron some more jobs this month – that means more dollarydoos to play with!”

A pause, then he added, “Maybe Uncle Kabal would like to pick a pretty White Lotus with his hookswords … yeah, and Uncle Erron could show that copper a thing or two about proper shooting an’ all. I’ll arrange it first thing tomorrow.”

Chuckling softly, Kano soon fell asleep, his dreams filled with his beloved “dollarydoos”.

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine this fic exists in a universe where Kabal and Erron work for the Black Dragon, and are seeing Stryker and Jin, all at the same time. And yes, Kano is being shipped with 'dollarydoos', even if that's too good for him. XD
> 
> Thanks for reading, lemme know if you enjoyed this story! Xx


End file.
